


How Takashi got his floof

by Corinne K (Corinne_K)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Hair Stylist AU, M/M, boy meets boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 18:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19874167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corinne_K/pseuds/Corinne%20K
Summary: Takashi goes for a haircut but his usual stylist is not around. A startstruck trainee comes to the rescue.





	How Takashi got his floof

Yeppeoyo, Takashi’s favourite Korean salon, stands in a hip part of town, among quaint cafes, second-hand shops,tree-line sidewalks and colourful murals. 

Hae-Ran has been his trusted stylist for just under a year, since right before his previous space mission. Now, on the eve of another departure, he hopes to get his mane trimmed for the newspaper pictures and to make wearing a helmet less of an itchy affair.

It is, thus, with some dismay that he finds the LED sign off and the salon lights suspiciously low. The door is unlocked, though, so he pushes it and lets himself in.

“Hello! I have a booking with Hae-Ran…”

Instead of the usual funky k-pop tunes, there’s some instrumental guitar music playing. He hears noise coming from the storage room and a young man emerges, wearing an apron and holding a broom. He looks a bit blinded, like a deer on headlights.

“Hi…” Takashi waves and smiles, going for his least intimidating demeanour, considering his stature and build.

“Hae-Ran is not here yet…”

The young man’s little blush is endearing, but Takashi really needs a haircut, so he probes, “Will she be here any time soon? I was hoping to get a trim today…”

“Her kid woke up with a fever,” the man finally replies. “She went to the hospital, but you know how it goes…”

Well, shit. If Hae-Ran went to the public hospital he’s looking at hours of wait. He only has the morning off. That won’t do.

“What about you? Or anyone else?”

“Our other stylist is off today and I’m still in training…”

“In training, huh?” Takashi ponders. He can go back home and just buzz his whole hair by himself, or… “Does that mean you at least know some basics?…As in, you’ve practised on a human subject before?”

That brings out a chuckle, and the first glimpse of expression in the pretty young face. “Yes, I’ve practised on humans. I’m not fully trained, though. Tell you what, I can wash your hair and we see if Hae-Ran turns up in the meantime.”

Now that’s more like it. He strolls happily to the back of the room, where the washing basins are. The stylist in training turns on the lights and starts running the water.

Takashi reclines himself on the plush, almost horizontal chair, and feels his feet being raised to the same level by some kind of adjustable foot rest.

“I’m Takashi, by the way. What about you?”

“Keith.”

“Nice meeting you, Keith.”

The water is pleasantly warm when Keith starts pouring it over his head. 

“Ok?” Lilac eyes peek over the basin, brows raised inquisitively.

“Perfect,” he purrs. 

Keith remains quiet for most of the job. He rinses, then lathers shampoo and massages until all of Takashi’s head is enveloped in froth. Keith’s fingers are bonier than what he’s used to, and the scalp massage more intense, almost like acupressure. Then comes water again, and another round of lathering, probably conditioner this time. He’s starting to really enjoy the feeling of Keith’s hands on his scalp when it disappears and another rinse comes. He finds himself humming and smiling and schools his face back to neutral, in slight embarrassment.

Keith helps him up while wrapping a warm towel around his head, then bids him to sit on an armchair, facing a tall mirror.

“Let me check my phone. I’ll be back.

Takashi lets his eyes follow the man as he walks to the reception. Tall and wiry, narrow hips, long hair in a bun. Takashi doesn’t have a type, but the view seems to hit all his buttons at once. He hides his blush with his palms.  Seriously, Shirogane…

He’s still recovering from his predicament when Keith appears by his side, holding his phone and frowning.

“They’re still waiting… There’s like fifty more people ahead of them... for some reason kids with a fever don’t get many favours with the triage people…”

Reluctantly, he looks up. Keith looks down at the same time and they get locked in each other’s gaze. Call it corny, but he can see the exact moment when Keith’s cheeks go red and his lashes flutter. He’s probably giving out the same vibe, considering the heat in his own face.

“I guess you’ve got yourself a guinea pig…” he says. 

Keith laughs, hand over his mouth and mirth in his eyes. 

“Promise not to tell Hae-Ran if it turns out awful?”

“Cross my heart.”

“Ok.”

Takashi’s hair turned grey during his return from Kerberos, a few months ago. He was worried until the doctors ran a number of tests and found that there was nothing wrong with him. Maybe he’s just too serious, maybe he worries too much. Breaking up with Adam probably contributed to his pile of woes too. But he’s determined to live more now. He still loves the stars and will happily jump on mission after mission, but he is beginning to look for interests outside his work.

“You’re an astronaut, aren’t you?” Keith asks while covering Takashi’s clothes with a black cape.

“Yeah. I’m going on a mission tomorrow, that’s why I really need a trim…”

“Mars. Not as far as Kerberos, but still an important site for research.”

“Right… You’re…?”

“I like astronomy, but I’m just a trainee in a hair salon. I saw you in the news.”

“Oh…”

“So, short back and sides, or what?”

“What do you think?”

Keith pulls gently at the tips of his overgrown locks, combs his hands through them, twists the bangs around his fingers and throws them over his forehead. He then pauses, pensive.

“I like how the bangs fall over your eyes, but it’s probably not practical for you…”

Keith’s hands are still tangled in his hair and at that moment, Takashi thinks that he might let the man do whatever he pleases, just to have those palms cradling his skull for a little longer.

“How about a fade, but I’ll leave the bangs on the longer side, falling just above your eyes?”

“Yeah, sure…”

And so Keith gets to work, trimming and buzzing and making faces, probably trying to get the proportions right. As the work progresses, Takashi has the feeling that in his desire to achieve perfect symmetry, Keith ends up cutting off a bit too much.

The final result is… unique. The fade looks good, but Takashi  might have forgotten to mention that his hair tends to gain a bit of volume when dry… so when Keith starts to blow dry and Takashi’s bangs perk up in a gravity defying piece of floof, he can’t suppress a giggle at Keiths panicked face. Some more hand-combing (very much appreciated) and the application of copious amounts of pomade later, the white tuft is temporarily tamed into a sort of pompadour. 

“Looks good,” he says.

Keith looks at him, between shy and hopeful, “Really?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

The apprentice sighs in relief. They head to the counter and Keith collects the payment. Takashi insists on paying full and tipping, even though he didn’t get his preferred stylist. Keith sees him to the door and Takashi turns to walk away. He’s always lighter after a haircut, but this time he feels like bouncing off his shoes. 

“Takashi…”

He turns back at the call, startled to hear his given name. No one calls him that anymore, so he almost forgot that’s the name he introduced himself with, just now.

“Stay safe out there!”

He grins and nods. “See you when I come back!”

Keith’s face lights up in a sweet smile. He lifts a hand and gingerly waves.

Maybe it’s a rebound, or he's just found his very own manic pixie dream boy, but Takashi can’t peel his eyes away. He laughs and runs a hand through his hair. Keith shakes his head and mouths “no, no, no”. He must have ruined the quiff because Keith is now laughing too. He forces himself to walk away. Suddenly, three months seem like an awful lot of time.


End file.
